Futile
by igirisexual
Summary: Oliver Kirkland and Matthew Williams. They seem like a lovely couple, don't they? It's a real shame one of them has a rather nasty secret. 2p1p UKCan! Smut. Oneshot. Trigger warning; Violence.


**3/100, futile. wow this is so bad please forgive me;**

**my internet went out so thats why i havent updated the 100 theme challenge**

**this is so b ad im sorry**

* * *

"I'm glad you could come over this evening."

Oliver's voice was sweet, his lips curled up in a sickeningly Cheshire-like grin. For the Brit, this was to be an evening of delight, if everything went to plan, and if he could properly seduce the man he had brought home after their date.

In the usual household, there was a newspaper around the room, or on a shelf if already read. Oliver had a habit of stealing people's newspapers and getting rid of them. It was amusing, that. He did have his reasons, though. Couldn't have any inquisitive visitors. He was selective in his lovers.

"I'm glad to be here." Matthew cooed back, taking his shoes off and following Oliver to where he sat on the couch.

"You know, poppet, I think you're sweet enough to sugar my tea with." Oliver started, leaning back against the couch a little. This caused Matthew's cheeks to grow a little pink.

"You say that all the time," he mumbled, shuffling a touch closer and brushing his lips against the other's freckled cheek.

Little kisses and flirts turned to more, lips pressing hard against one another's, words of wanting being whispered in the other's ear.. Matthew pulled the other into long and passionate kisses, tongue pushing into the other's mouth, as Oliver's was to his.

Matthew's fingers began probing at the Briton's collar, eventually tugging off the other man's bowtie and trying to shift off his first layer of clothing.

"Is that what you want, now?" Oliver cooed, pawing at Matthew's hoodie himself.

Clothes, excepting boxers, were removed between capricious kisses, those actions of affection tickling the skin of one another. Matthew found his teeth clamping down roughly here and there on the Briton's pale and thin neck, earning quiet moans or grunts from the other.

"I.. Could you-" The younger of the pair stammered, getting nervous once the two of them were both almost void of clothes. Matthew had ended up on top of Oliver, cheeks heavily flushed with embarrassment as he pecked small kisses to Oliver's shoulders.

Oliver understood. As much as he didn't want to leave Matthew's muscle-bound arms, it was necessary to the lovemaking process. "Perhaps we should move to the bedroom." He cooed, watching Matthew sit back up. Oliver did ogle the other's form while he could, but just smiled, flashing his pearly whites. Matthew agreed.

Practically pulling the other along to the bedroom, Oliver traversed his small cottage of a house.

"This is so sudden-.. It's only been a month since we started dating," Matthew wheezed as he lay down upon Oliver's bed, leaning back on his elbows. He was indeed a little self-conscious about showing so much skin, but he loved Oliver, and so he deemed it all right. As the Briton rifled throughout his drawer, he just smiled down. "As long as you're okay with this, I am, sweetie~" He sang, grabbing the small bottle of lube before shuffling back onto the bed and putting it to the side table, ready when they needed it.

"I've only done this once before, and it was with a woman, so-" Matthew murmured, nervous as Oliver straddled him, leaning over him possessively and pressing kisses along his jaw line.

The Canadian's breath hitched as Oliver's fingers pressed for a moment against his most sensitive spot, and he elicited an audible gasp.

"A dear shame I don't have anything fun on me at the moment." Oliver cooed softly, lips puckered to give him a cutesy look. "Oh, wait, I have a brilliant idea. Sorry to leave you hanging, but I'll be back." Oliver whispered, shuffling off the other and leaving the room.

It was awkward, just waiting for the other to return, but thankfully he didn't take long. Matthew wasn't really sure what to expect. Kitchen tools were definitely not what he'd been guessing at.

"Ah, isn't this brilliant?" Oliver cooed, laying down the various utensils on the floor to the side of the bed, where he'd be able to reach down and access them. Matthew didn't exactly see what was within the small collection of items, but he could've sworn he got a glimpse of silver.

As the pair locked lips again, tongues wrestling and breath hot, the younger blond didn't even notice Oliver reaching down to pick out one of the utensils. The kisses exchanged grew harder and more passionate. However, Matthew jolting at the feel of something cold and painful on his exposed skin disturbed their affections.

A small line had been drawn along Matthew's skin with the tip of a kitchen knife. Expertly wielded by Oliver, of course. No blood was drawn, as the he had just used the blunt end.

"Oliver- What the hell-" Matthew mumbled, alarmed and trying to shuffle back a bit.

The Briton put on a little smile, pouting. "Intercourse isn't all that fun without a little foreplay." He mused.

"Fine, but put the knife away.." The Canadian said softly. The freckled blond was hesitant, as he did seem to have a thing for inflicting pain to his partners, despite his cutesy face and cheery nature. A bit of a nasty sadist, he was.

He pursed his lips, reaching for another utensil from the pile. "Rolling pin okay?" Oliver pondered, lifting it up to show his short-term lover. It was short-term in the Brit's eyes, anyway.

"Can we avoid the utensils?" Matthew murmured, a touch frightened by the next few objects that Oliver lifted to ask if they'd be okay. Pizza cutter, no. Cake spatula, no. Soup ladle, definitely not. He wondered if this was some messed up kitchen kink Oliver had, but he kept quiet. "Can we just skip the foreplay? You're creeping me out." He asked softly.

"If you want, although it won't be as much fun." Oliver hummed, returning his hand from the side of the bed, and cupping both palms on Matthew's cheeks. "Petal, tell me how much you love me."

He laughed softly, lifting a hand to take off his glasses and put them to the side. "I love you more than my heart can take. I think it's going to explode." Matthew purred, angling his head up a touch and pressing his lips against Oliver's.

Matthew earned a bright grin from the other. It was almost eerie, but he shook that off. "Exactly what I wanted to hear."

* * *

They allowed for no more lollygagging. After their boxers were shed, Oliver expertly applied the lubricant to the needed areas. He decided it amusing to gently play with Matthew's member, palming gently at first, before letting his delicate fingers spider around the shaft. In return, the Canadian's breaths had grown heavier as he was touched and played with.

"I'm going to put a finger in," Oliver stated with a sweet smile, pecking a trail of kisses along Matthew's collarbones. "Alright?" There was a small hum of approval from Matthew, and the Briton slowly pushed a digit inside.

The younger blond tensed, the feeling of something inside of his rear giving him a bit of a shock. "More," he said softly, a bit dumbstruck amongst sloppy-growing kisses. As instructed, another finger was pushed into him, gently pushing against his inner walls.

Matthew elicited a quiet huff, awkwardly trying to shift his hips to accommodate Oliver's fingers a little better.

"Do you like this?" Oliver murmured, slowly stretching the other's entrance a touch more by slipping in a third finger. The gradually quickening movement of Oliver's fingers probing at his insides was enough to cause Matthew to grunt in response, that noise in place of comprehensible words.

"_Oui_-" Matthew whispered, eyes half-closed. Slowly, the Briton withdrew his fingers one by one, shuffling into place a little better.  
"Are you ready then, dear Matthew, poppet?" He cooed quietly, making the other spread his legs as much as he could. A 'yes' was whispered as Matthew curled his arms around the back of his lover's neck.

Oliver entered, trying to be gentle. This was all quite strange – pleasant, but strange – to Matthew, but he accepted it without protest, arching his back. He gasped, grunts and moans starting to escape him once Oliver began thrusting.

The Canadian was rather quick to finish, being young and relatively inexperienced. Oliver released not long after his lover, giving the feeling of filling him up. Matthew's toes curled, and he dug his fingernails gently into Oliver's back. To him, this was a new kind of orgasm, and one that seemed to shake his whole world. The older man's climax was not as strong in his body, as he was a touch distracted by other thoughts in his mind. Regardless, It caused him to tremble a bit as heat traveled from his lower regions all across his body.

Oliver pulled out, rolling over to Matthew's side. The two panted for a bit, struggling to get back their breath. "That was great.." Matthew uttered quietly, staring up at the ceiling.

"Certainly, poppet." The Briton purred back, amused as his lover's arm snaked around him. "Tell me how much you love me."

"I love you to shreds, Oliver." He cooed airily, smiling.

Oliver just giggled a bit at that answer. How appropriate for what he had planned.

"I love you especially when you giggle, you big cutie." Matthew swooned, pinching gently at his partner's freckled cheek.

* * *

They lay together, Oliver feigning sleep until he knew Matthew had switched to unconsciousness. Ah, if only Matthew knew his mistake. The Briton was a very selective lover, picking out his partners carefully. Just because they looked fun, really.

He sat up gently, being sure not to wake the Canadian beside him. Oh, this was going to be delightful! Even more so if Matthew woke up! Being hasty, he shuffled out of bed and got dressed in his usual bright attire, before settling back down on the bed.

Oliver leant over to the side of the bed, taking up a few of the utensils he'd brought in earlier. It was the pizza cutter that he took interest in first. It was small, with a yellow handle, and a recently cleaned blade. Beautiful.

He was an expert with a blade, to say the least. Gently, and quickly, he pressed the rotating and circular blade against Matthew's bare chest, carving a typical love-heart in two quick strokes.

His lover jolted awake, Oliver quickly pinning him down. "What the fuck-" Matthew muttered, utterly confused and terrified. As they'd never turned the room's lights off for their lovemaking, Matthew could indeed see the bright scarlet of his own blood on his chest, and he started to panic.

Matthew went to cry out again, but was interrupted by a rolling pin to the teeth. Oliver couldn't wipe the smile from his face. "Oliver, what the hell is wrong with you?!" The Canadian shouted, only to have the wooden utensil shoved onto his throat, air supply being cut off. The pressure added was gradual.

Oliver lifted the rolling pin, chuckling as Matthew wheezed to get his breath back. The Briton used his weight to hold the other man down. Really, his lover was a fool for being just that. Falling in love with him was probably the worst mistake of Matthew's life!

Especially since he was one of the less established serial killers about.

He continued to bruise Matthew, slamming the rolling pin down on his chest and shoulders hard. This was so much fun! And the sounds of Matthew's skin being bludgeoned.. Oh, they just made him feel shivers of excitement.

The Canadian's cries were numerous, tears dripping from his cheeks. "Why are you doing this-.. Oliver, this isn't you-" he whimpered, weakly trying to lift his arm. As he did so, Oliver took the chance and twisted it back, hard. He had at least dislocated the man's shoulder with this action.

"This is me. You love a ruse, poppet."

Oliver's voice was still cheery. And that frightened Matthew all that much more.

The next tool he picked out was the kitchen knife. It was rather plain, just a middle-standard blade. But it was slick and easy to use. Multi-purpose, too. A real useful one.

Grinning, Oliver lifted the blade and plunged it into the bare flesh of Matthew's forearm.

Matthew screamed, a primal yelp of pain, as the metal delved through his skin and dug into his muscles. This was all too painful, and he was hurt enough emotionally as it was. His attempts at moving were futile and pathetic.

Over the next ten minutes, more and more stab-holes, nicks, and winding cuts had been carved into the Canadian's skin and flesh, dying him a beautiful hue of cherry red. Those marks that adorned him just made him look oh so much more beautiful to the Briton. Oliver was surprised that the man was still clinging onto life. He could tell that Matthew wouldn't be able to hold on. It was a familiar sound – breathing growing shallow, to the point where it was almost silent – so Oliver knew that the fight was almost over. The delicious scarlet of blood stained across his bedsheets, but he didn't much mind. He'd be moving location again soon anyway.

"Tell me how much you love me."

Oliver's words were sickly sweet, blue eyes glinting in the lowlight of the room.

Matthew just wheezed, tears still falling down his pale cheeks. It was a few mere moments after that that his eyes closed, and Oliver could no longer hear even the quietest of breaths.

The Briton just laughed, leaning down and kissing those unfeeling lips one last time. Matthew's blood stained his lips red, and he just smirked, wiping it off like it was nothing.

The whole concept of 'love' was quite the futile game to Oliver Kirkland. Perhaps he took 'going in for the kill' a little too literally. Ah, even as a fruitless game, he was just in it for the fun during; he could barely wait for the next lover he would get to dice up! If he didn't get caught, that is. Well, that was all part of the fun!


End file.
